Page 79 of A Boy Called Lovesong

The bayou?

Weren’t there fucking alligators and swamp rats and certain death in the bayou?

Standing out front ofEarl’s Autoin the glaring heat of day, I wiped the sweat off my neck and glanced down toward the end of the street, where the cotton fields whittled away, and the plantation landscape morphed into the shallows of the marshes.

“Well, the new timing belt and spark plugs work a treat,” called Earl from inside his mechanic workshop. “If we get the other parts today, your car will be back on the road by tomorrow.”

With my eyes still trained nervously on the bayou at the edge of town, barely anything Earl said filtered into my brain. “Thankyou,” I called back, distracted. “That sounds amazing. I’m sure you’re doing your best work.”

I glanced back to give him a polite nod, and Earl wiped his greasy hands down the front of his coveralls. “Not sure my ‘best work’ has ever been ‘amazing,’ but hell, compliments can sometimes be in short supply in these parts, so I’ll take what I can get.”

Without saying goodbye, I ventured out onto the street, looking back to the not-so-distant swamps when I heard another voice behind me.

“Ah, Mr. Van Owen. What fortunate timing.”

I turned to see Reverend Jim and his wife Adeline stepping out of the church, both dressed in black, the reverend’s wife opening a black lace parasol to fend off the brutal sun. The insects of the fields sang a deafening chorus as the pair appeared, as though the mere sight of them was enough to summon a plague.

Reverend Jim shouted over the throng of bugs. “We hope you’re enjoying your sojourn in our dear little town. Are you finding your accommodation at Maybelle’s Manor… adequate.”

I gave a polite smile. “Maybelle’s is more than adequate. As a matter of fact, I’m sharing a room with your son.”

“Oh!” The reverend and his wife said at the same time.

“I do hope he’s behaving himself,” Reverend Jim remarked, trying so hard not to imply what was obvious in his tone.

I struggled to hide my smirk. “Would you expect anything less of your son?”

The reverend said nothing in response, he simply cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Mr. Van Owen, I feel like we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. My wife and I would like to extend an invitation for supper at our place after tonight’s service. We’d be most honored if you’d oblige.”

“Oh. Um. Actually… I think I might be busy.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m sure whatever it is that’s keeping you busy can wait till tomorrow. As I said, we’d be most honored if you’d oblige.”

I felt like the reverend was going to persist until I agreed, so I decided to save us all the time. “Okay. Thank you. Yes, I’ll come, that’s very kind of you.”

The reverend and his wife smiled. “Excellent. We look forward to seeing you then.”

They turned and walked on, the choir of insects dimming their volume until soon not a single cricket or bug chirped.

Even though the sun was lower in the sky by the time Lovesong returned from the fields and the day was crawling to an end, the temperature only got hotter, the air more intense.

Lovesong quickly changed out of his sweat-drenched work clothes, his naked body shimmering with a sheen of perspiration, and for a moment I wanted to try to convince him to forget about the bayou.

But the thought of the creature turning up again in the dead of night had my stomach in knots, and if there was a way of stopping it from happening again—of even confronting whoever it was—then no matter how nerve-racking the thought of that was, I was willing to do it for my sanity’s sake. Especially if Lovesong was there to keep me safe.

Besides, I didn’t think I had a hope of talking Lovesong out of whatever we were about to do. He had a tense and determined expression on his face, his brow creased with conviction.

“Where exactly in the bayou are we going?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He simply turned to his bed where he knew Chet was sitting. “Chet, buddy, you need to stay here. There’s gators in the swamp that’ll eat you whole.”

“Gators? You mean there really are alligators out there?” I couldn’t hide my alarm.

“It’s a bayou, Noah. Not a duck pond.”

I gulped and he grabbed my hand. “We can’t let anybody see us. You have to make sure nobody sees us.”

“Why?”

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